I sit outside in the cold watching Fozz dig a hole in the yard after I told him not to.
He just loves to eat the dirt.
I think there must be something he needs from it. Iron? Is there iron in dirt?
I wonder if I would be doing this if we were still together…
*A wave of thoughts about you that rush and run over me on most days.*
Some days I laugh out loud in the car when I catch myself being “crazy.”
Other days I blast music and don’t give a fuck.
Things are good and not good.
I would give up everything I have to be alone in a vast land with you.
(I’d also run away and change my name.)
We’d stand in front of each other with nothing to say.
Because I’m still hurt and mad and confused.
And you don’t have any more ways to break it to me.
I ask myself if I was really happy, anyway? The answer to that question doesn’t have words. I pause and remember.
And now the birds are chirping and my coffee is cold. It’s time for us to go on a run.